


Happy Birthday Stevie

by Crimsonsparrow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Pain, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Slow Build, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:50:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimsonsparrow/pseuds/Crimsonsparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve hopelessly chases after The Winter Soldier with the hopes of finding him, what he doesn't expect was to be led into a fight on his birthday of all days with the ghost that's been haunting him. Nor does he suspect what happens next, sometimes a birthday just likes to go off with a bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bang Bang, my baby shot me down.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! All errors are my own! Leave comments or somethin', iunno. Let me know what you guys think.

It was stupid, Steve knew that.

"Eyes on Roger." Natasha's voice hummed through the ear piece. This wasn't just another simple mission, there had been a sighting of the Winter Soldier. After receiving that file those months back, he hadn't been able to let go of that thread. So here he was, standing out in the open, sunlight streaming through his golden hair, trying to figure out why the hell Bucky would come to a place like this. It was secluded. Although even if it was empty, devoid of most life, there was too many high roosts that'd work for a sniper. Shit. Barnes had been a hell of a shot, but the Soldier? Never missed. Standing out in the open like this was dangerous, what if other members that remained of SHIELD got hurt? That'd be on his head and no one else's. A slow breath out, head tipping to the side, oceanic eyes scanning through the shadows, he stepped backward.

"Nat, move the team out. Don't stay here, do _not_ engage. He's somewhere up there." He didn't wait for the response, a hand lifting upward to take out the ear piece. This was between him and the abomination that HYDRA had turned his former best friend into. It'd be a devastating lie if he ever claimed something like this wasn't going to tear him apart. It damn well was. Heart thudding painfully in his chest, Steve was more than aware of keeping his shield close, prepared to use it. Deciding positions would be the easiest thing to do, if he moved, it'd make the mission harder to carry out, harder to be terminated. Glancing once more upward, a sigh escaped his mouth. Well, this was shaping up into one hell of a birthday. No time to throw himself a pity party though.

Especially when the first shot hit the shield hard, right above where Steve's heart was.

Shit - that'd been close but it gave a direction for him. Lunging forward, adrenaline rocked through his core. There was always something about a fight that got him going. Maybe it was just the remainders of the kid from Brooklyn who spent so much time scrapping in fights and being pushed around. Bucky had been the one person who countless times picked his sorry ass off the street and made sure that any of his cuts got tended to or stitched. It hurt to think about. Right now wasn't the time to dwell on how they had been there for each other. Head ducked, moving fluidly, Steve knew one thing. One of them would be going down that day. Bucky would never want to be... what he was now. Even thinking on it had Rogers letting out a low noise in his throat, breaking into the building the shot had come from.

Careful steps on the weathered cement had him staring upward, how many stories was this place? His thoughts scattered as a quick blow came from behind, knocking him forward. It was obvious who it was from the soft whir of gears. Stomach pitching, turning quickly, shield raised to meet the metal fist this time, trying to regain his bearings. That had been a dirty move, but it didn't matter. This wasn't like him to rush into a fight half cocked. Who was there to judge him though? Another hit struck across the shield, forcing his footing backward. Moving quickly, a half turn in a pivot, Steve grabbed with his free hand to grip the other by the flesh shoulder, knees bending as he swept the motion forward to slam the HYDRA abomination against the ground. _Happy birthday to me._ That sardonic thought simpered in the back of his mind.

The throw down was followed by a sharp punch to the side of the familiar face. A sharp pain flared up in his abdomen, as a knee hit him full force in the gut. Breath wheezing out harshly, The Soldier is staring, determined to finish this mission. Suddenly, Steve feels his shoulders slump. "I don't want to fight you Buck." Trepidation is curling through his gut in a wild frenzy, it's stupid to show weakness to someone who wants nothing more than to snuff out his life. What was he expecting in response? A solid hit connects to his jaw, his vision speckled briefly, darkening. Was this going to be another repeat of what happened in the helicarrier? Spitting out the blood, a snarl escaped his own mouth. If he went down, Winter still had orders to terminate Natasha too. Like hell was he going to let someone else suffer because he couldn't admit his own stupid, selfish feelings are there. What if this is the man he had fallen in love with when they had been nothing more than kids, running through dank alleys? No, that was selfish.

"I'm sorry."

Jerking in surprise, Steve was startled. Sorry? Did Winter just apologize? For what? Whatever brief flash of humanity had been in those oceanic eyes was gone in a flicker. Rocking himself forward in a roll, Steve got to his feet. No way he'd take this laying down. "C'mon, you wanna go?" It was like the snappy hundred pound of nothing scrapper was there, mouth set in a hard line despite blood that curled at the corner of his mouth. Pain was nothing new. It ruled his whole life, from the minute he intervened on his first fight with a bully, losing his mother, eventually losing Bucky to the army. All of it clicked into a painful image which had born Captain America. His stance was the typical boxing one, light on his feet.

Winter came at him with the speed to mirror his own super soldier physique. One punch, two, three. Steve landed these in rapid success, ducking away from the metal arm, not intending on taking more hits from it.

It didn't matter, the flesh had was more than accurate clipping his jaw harshly. Instead of responding to it, Steve just soldiered on, surging forward to slam his shoulder into Winter's solar plexus, watching briefly as the assassin snarled at him, Russian snapping out rapidly. He had no idea what was snarled at him, he was just growling back. "If you wanna go pal, maybe try a language I care about learning." Spitting to the side, blood came with the spittle. Maybe there was a way to disable his arm. Another even breath, a vicious, primal look settling in his eyes.

What had't occurred to him was to check Winter and see if he had weapons hidden on his person. Eyes widened in shock, pain blossoming in his chest. Staggering from having bullets rip through his sternum, Steve gasped. Knees went weak, blood rapidly seeped out from the bullet holes, soaking the fabric of his suit an angry maroon. Generally the tact that lined the suit would've stopped normal bullets, but these weren't normal. Blood was soaking about him, refusing to go down. Even if he was on his knees, struggling to remain awake. Lungs screamed for air, everything blurring in his vision. "I.." Choking on his words, Rogers could feel himself on a precipice of unconsciousness. "Forgive you." Crimson slicked lips rose into a soft melancholy smile, before his whole body sagged forward like a marionette with the strings snipped.

"ROGERS, ROGERS IS DOWN I REPEAT, ROGERS IS DOWN."

Natasha? When'd sh- oh right. Blood gurgled in his throat, rasping softly. Winter was still there, bending down beside him. Cool fingers touching in against the pulse point. Feebly trying to lash out, a vicious gasp escaped him. "Happy Birthday Stevie." Those words were softly whispered in his ear before everything went dark.

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVIE._

No, no, he couldn't die like this. How could everything go to shit like this? Who'd save Bucky from himself? If he hadn't crashed that plane maybe he could've saved his friend. Dying with regrets was horrible.

\----------

**Brooklyn, New York, 1934.**

"Stevie c'mon!"

"Gimme a sec real quick, I kinda forgot what day it was!"

"Leave it to Steve Rogers to forget his own birthday."

Pausing, baby blue eyes focused on Bucky leaning nonchalantly, dressed in a dress shirt, and clean slacks. Dark brown hair was brushed to the side, trade mark grin in place as he noticed Steve staring. Biting down on the tip of his tongue, shoulders rose almost defensively, shooting a glance down to his own brown slack, white button up shirt and suspenders. It wasn't like he had a lot. "Stop lookin' at me like that, didn't your ma ever tell you that if you make a stupid face for too long it gets stuck like that?" Snipping that out, he grabbed his coat. It might've been a warm summer afternoon, but with how easy he got sick... well it was easier just to be over prepared.

"Oh yeah? I always kinda wondered what happened to your face." Bucky shot back, brows rising. "That musta been it." Glowering, Steve stepped past him into the hallway so they could head out, the familiar weight of Bucky's hand clasping on his shoulder tugging him closer. "Aw c'mon Stevie, y'know I'm joking. You're pretty as a picture."

"Are you trying to sweet talk me right now Barnes?" Steve grumbled, feeling the corner of his mouth tug upward into a faint hint of a smile. No point in even trying to pretend to be too snarky with his best friend. After all, it was one of the few things Steve had to look forward in his life. Hitting outside, eyes squinted against afternoon light that streamed in golden rays. Playfully bumping against Bucky, Steve picked up his pace heading for their favorite spot, but Bucky had another thought in mind, grabbing him by the elbow.

"Nu uh, first you gotta come to my place. My ma wants tah see you, and Becca kept askin' about you. You've been avoidin' our place and don't think ma doesn't notice." Bucky gave him a pointed look, Steve resisted the urge to sigh. Well, it wasn't like Bucky was wrong. It was weird being in a happy family, seeing so many people happy to have one another there. The Barnes family never made him feel like an outsider but it didn't matter. It wasn't that his own mother didn't try her hardest but he hated feeling like a burden on her, especially with how poor his health was. Instead of making a quip, Steve let his best friend haul him through familiar streets. "I know you don't wanna do anything fancy, and I'm good with that, we'll make this a fast visit 'kay?" Bobbing his head, Steve shot a grateful glance.

The visit with the Barnes family went better than Steve had thought. Pale eyes shifted over Bucky in thought as they walked out of the house.

"James, make sure Steven bundles up!"

"Yeah, yeah Ma, I got it. Don't think I'm gonna let Rogers get sick that easy." Shooting that back, and exasperated noise escaped Barnes. Steve just arched a brow to his best friend, tugging on the rough woolen dress jacket. Easier just to do it than struggle with Bucky wrestling it onto him. (Which had happened a couple occasions, Steve Rogers wasn't anyone charity case, no ma'am.) "Sorry, y'know how she gets." A shoulder rose slightly in a defeated shrug as they both stepped away from the house. This part of the night was going to be one of his favorites. Steve was unaware of the thoughts lurking in Bucky's mind, but he knew better than to challenge Bucky. Especially when Bucky would bait him right back with another challenge knowing full well he'd never back down from something.

"S'okay Buck. C'mon, let's see if we can find a place at the pier to smuggle away to. I wanna see the fire works on the water." Flashing a grin, he tugged on Bucky's wrist, weaving through the thick crowds of people out celebrating the birthday of their nation. Finally they broke through the crowds, Steve was breathing a little heavier. Asthma was a pain, especially with the way his lungs would rasp in his chest, burning while he'd steal small breaths. Luckily, it took only a couple minutes to catch his breath, Bucky patting his shoulder soothingly.

"C'mon, you can't die on me you Punk, especially on your birthday." Bucky paused, "Less you think our day together is so terrible you're trying to die on me! I know I stole your breath away Stevie, don't gotta prove it." Joking, he winced slightly when Steve huffed harshly, smacking his ribs hard before wriggling out of his grasp, heading over the thick sturdy boards of the pier.

"Jerk." Flopping down onto his tush, legs dangled over the edge, leaning back slightly so he was on his elbows, head tipped backward to watch the sky, waiting. Bucky settled at his side, scooting closer, he offered a slight grin. "Don't make any irresistible jokes or I'm gonna see how well you swim Barnes." A content sigh escaped him as Bucky's arm wrapped about his slender shoulders, the both of them staring upward at the bright colours that painted the night sky. There was nothing better than this, having his best friend at his side enjoying another birthday. Awe sparkled in the depths of his eyes, there was so many colours, and it only reflected over the open harbor. Maybe if he glanced over he'd have noticed the way Bucky was staring intently at him instead of the fire works, Steve shivered as hot breath trailed over his ear.

"Happy birthday Stevie."

\---

"Rogers, dammit wake up, please. You big moron, wake up."

_Happy birthday Stevie._


	2. You Sure As Hell Don't Learn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any mistakes are my own, comment or stuff. Please enjoy.

"Are you freakin' kiddin' me Punk? Again?" A drawled out voice groaned from the mouth of the alley way where he saw Steve Rogers crumpled against the wall. Head held high, Steve winced, vision swimming. He knew full well how Bucky felt about him doing stupid things like this, rushing into another fight. Glowering over at Bucky, Steve stood his ground. "What was it this time?" A hand moved over his jaw, deft fingers holding him in place while Bucky pulled his face side to side to see the damage done, a low whistle escaping his mouth.

Swatting away the hand on his jaw, a huff escaped his mouth. "I'm fine." Muttering that out, a scowl hardened, his golden hair was askew, ruffled everywhere. Shoving away from where he had been leaning into the rough dirty bricks, his whole lean form swayed dangerously. "See?" Huffing it out, he didn't want to look over to his friend knowing full well that he was getting Barnes look of utter annoyance.

"Yeah well, didn't ask that did I? I know you're always gonna get back up from a beating, you don't got the sense to stay down." Another sharp glare was thrown to Bucky, it wasn't fair that he was being scolded.

"I know what you asked. They were picking on old Miss May! She never hurt anyone, but it didn't stop 'em from trying to hustle her for money. Who does that to an old lady Buck! That kinda crud ain't right. They're the kinda people who need a swift fist to their kisser. Just one good pow!" Breathing hitched hard, eyes fluttered, almost falling down into the ground face first. Probably would've too had it not been for Bucky looping an arm around his waist. Another thin noise escaped Rogers as he was all but tossed over the other's shoulder. "Buck I had 'em on the ropes! You gotta believe me!"

"I sure do Stevie, how many were there?" Steve's breathing remained ragged, but he stopped struggling at that question. Did he really want to answer that and then have Barnes staring at him as if he grew three heads? "Well, c'mon. Spit it out. How many did you try to take on this time Rogers?" Patience wasn't really his best friend's strong point, especially when it came to people hurting Steve. Not that he'd know why. Bucky could've made friends with anyone, but he settled on someone broken like himself. What the hell was with that? Debating on not saying anything, his friend purposely jostled the shoulder that Steve was tossed over, a pained whimper escaped his mouth.

"Four."

A low hiss of breath escaped Bucky, yet he didn't say anything. That's exactly how Steve knew he'd be in for a mouthful when they did get back to the apartment. Any other fella would've had enough of how often Rogers stupidly threw himself into things without a care about his own aches and pains. It'd be another fight between them, which honestly blew. He hadn't meant to cause more issues. As they got back to Steve's apartment, Bucky leaned down, shifting the brick out of the way to retrieve the guest key that was kept there. Hanging there wasn't exactly comfortable but honestly, he had no right to bitch, there hadn't been a way he'd have made it back on his own. As the door to his apartment swung open, tension seemed to seep in the shoulders of his friend. Crap. Great. Being lowered slowly, Steve settled onto the balls of his heels, slipping further inside, holding any quips that might've come out.

Softly, the oak door clicked shut. Steve turned to stare at Bucky in the dim light that filtered through one of the windows. There was a hard scowl there, brows pinched, arms crossing over his chest. _"Steven Grant Rogers."_ There goes the full use of his name, great this is going to be one hell of a lecture. Eyes rolled skyward briefly, stalking to pull out one of the kitchen chairs. Bucky berating him was almost worse than when his ma did it. His ma could never stay mad for long, but Bucky? Phew, that guy could hold a grudge. Especially when something avoidable happened. Shoulders remained raised, feeling heat come to his own face.

"That's my name alright."

"Don't fucking sass me right now Rogers you asshole. You rushed into another fight stupidly, you knew I had work today. What if I hadn't found you? What if those thugs decided to have round two of kicking your ass? Then what? Were you gonna just lay and die in that alley way? Do you even think with your brain? Do you even HAVE a brain?" Those words boom across the small apartment, Steve tries not to react, tries not to give Bucky something else to rant about. Wearily watching, light floods his apartment, Bucky turning it on finally so he can get a proper look at the damage done this time. This is stupid, why does Bucky always act like it's the end of the world? Eyes finally lowered feeling hot, shit no. He refused to cry, that'd make things worse, then the anger would turn into pity and if there was one thing he loathed more than bullies it was people thinking they could pity him.

A harsh gasp escaped parted, blood stained lips as Bucky took his hands first to asses what was done there. "Jesus Steve, are you going to even be able to pick up a pencil?" Pain flared dangerously up the limb as gentle touches of pressure were applied, "No you're not."

"Glad you answered that yourself. I coulda told yeah one of those chumps broke my drawing hand." Jerking back from gentle prodding, he settled his hand back onto his lap, staring at Bucky's chest as if it were fascinating. Finally Barnes is pulling back from looking over each mark, even making Steve take off his shirt to look at the nasty bruises blossoming across his fair, pale skin. Head bowed, Rogers refuses to glance up. "I don't regret it for one second Buck, maybe I don't got a brain, but you know what? Some people need someone in their corner. There's people that got no one, and I ain't standing back to watch em suffer. No can do." Rasping those words out viciously, Steve finally notices Bucky coming back with the a cloth, a bottle of whiskey and some gauze.

"I know Steve, I know. You don't gotta go righteous on me. You've got me in your corner till the end of the line. I didn't mean to make you feel stupid, even if you are." A hiss of pain escapes Steve while the whiskey slicked cloth is dabbed through his various scrapes and knicks. "Y'know, you'd be pretty as a picture if you stopped tryin' to take one the whole world for a day Steve. Wouldn't hurt to let someone else handle things." Sighing, Bucky knows this isn't a fight he's going to win, especially when it's clear Steve is about to either cry or go on a massive rant. Either way, he'd settle for the long haul. No point in bailing now.

Neither of those things happened.

"How long till you think my hand will heal Buck?"

"Donno pal, 'pends on how bad its broken, weeks to months."

\------

"He's waking up."

"About time."

A soft groan rumbles low in his chest, mouth feeling like cotton. God, why does he feel like he got in a fight with a brick wall and lost? What the hell is even going on? Eyes open slightly, bright light flooding any normal senses a human being would have. A soft beeping noise drew attention, flickering the blurred gaze over that way. Yet, his gaze never made it that far. Natasha was perched on the edge of a white plastic hospital chair, staring at him intently like something was supposed to happen. Memories were slow to trickle back into place considering how drugged the doctors had kept them. It had been necessary considering that his body had healed around the bullets. A drug comatose had been enforced long enough to cut out each bullet that The Winter Solider put into his body.

_Happy Birthday Stevie._

Jerking harshly in the bed, fingers curled around IV's in his arms. Nat is on him before the chance comes to rip them out, her grip steady. "Rogers, you rip that out and you're going to regret it. Do you realize what kinda state he left you in this time? If we hadn't shown up when we had, you'd be dead. For what? A best friend who wants you dead?" Nat's words are harsh, a slap to the face. Baby blue eyes flicker from her, muscles going slack. What is he even supposed to do in this shape? Run off and pray to god that he'd stumble on Bucky somewhere out there? That wasn't how life worked, and honestly, things didn't go well their last couple encounters. Nat's grip finally pulled back, though she didn't move. Lips pursed, glaring down, eyes full of annoyance in them. "I know you didn't want to have a birthday party, but you didn't have to get shot to avoid it."

"Don't worry Nat!" Tony Stark's voice crowed from his side of the room, Steve glanced that way. He hadn't realized Stark had been in there the whole time. "Capsicle is getting a birthday bash one way or another! But we're not inviting your psycho boyfriend Rogers. Pretty sure he'd ruin the whole family friendly mood."

Maybe those words were meant as a joke, but it served as a reminder of how bad things were going. If it wasn't bad enough Bucky was a monster with no control, there was clearly some of him in there. The Winter Soldier would've never spoke to him, let alone wish a happy birthday. Would he? What if he was evolving without having handlers to control every action? Eyes fluttered shut. "I don't care Tony, I'm not going one way or another. I was never big on the whole birthday thing. Always spent 'em with Bucky until.." He trailed off, it was pretty obvious what event had stopped such things from happening. Birthdays were just a painful reminder of all the years he lost, years he could've spent with Peggy or looking for Bucky. Instead he had been frozen in the arctic like some sort of god forsaken relic.

"Aw don't be like that. We'll get something planned real soon." With that Stark leaves, probably because the tension is so god damn palpable right then that it wouldn't be a surprise to reach out and feel it. Natasha is still there, waiting for something to happen, Steve glances over at her, for once lowering his guards, exhaustion showing.

"Y'know, it's always good to let it out. At least that's what I get told. If you need to yell or scream, I'm here to listen." Steve knows she's trying to be helpful. Eyes closed for a moment. What the hell was he supposed to say? That no matter how god damn hard he tried, nothing was enough? That crashing the plane had been an attempt to get back to Bucky because he thought that when the other fell from that stupid train. That death was supposed to be both their resting places then? Or maybe that he hated being Captain America. Eyes hot, fingers coiled tightly in against the thin hospital bed sheets. How can he admit all these things out loud to Nat and expect to be looked at the same?

"I just regret almost choice I've made up to now." Mumbling that, head flopping back in against the confines of the pillows, he knows its stupid, but it is what it is. "I don't want to be Captain America anymore Nat. I just want my best friend back, I'm tired of this constant fighting and killing. Maybe my age is really catching up to me. Who knows." Sighing harshly, he expects to see pity in the petite red head's eyes but there is only understanding.

"Scoot over." Her voice leaves no room for arguments, Steve shifts to the side of the bed where the IV is placed. Nat's crawling up into the small bed, shifting until they're crammed side to side, stretched out beside him. Silence settles for a couple minutes, Steve finds he really doesn't mind how close they are. "I never wanted to be a Black Widow so I guess to some extent I understand. I'll never know what it's like to have a best friend since childhood, I have Clint now and it'd hurt like a bitch if something happened to him. I can't begin to understand how much grief is inside you, but I do know that if you keep letting that guilt consume you, then you're not going to be a god damn use to Barnes when he does get back some of his memories." Normally Nat doesn't talk this much to him, all her points are valid and thought out before spoken.

"You're right." Murmuring that, he noticed the self satisfied smirk that scrawls across her features.

"I know I am."

"You know, being humble wouldn't hurt you." It's his best attempt at a joke consider the vile, dark thoughts sluicing through his mind like an angry torrent. It's his fault Bucky suffered so bad. If only he had been there to save him, to protect him. Silent tears escaped his eyes before he could swipe them away. Nat didn't comment on them, merely curled up closer to Steve, both of them sitting like that for hours, neither saying a thing.

\-----

A week, he spent a whole week trapped in that hospital bed with nurses hovering constantly. Sometimes it was annoying being the charming Captain Rogers that they hoped to chat with. If any of the chats turned towards flirting, he'd just stop responding to, staring blankly toward the wall. It's only then that Natasha can get a rise out of him. "Anyone in there? I see one hell of a mopey Star Spangled golden boy who isn't playing very nice with the nurses. Kinda makes me glad you never went out with Sharon. I mean look at you. Could you make it any more obvious you're pining over someone who's dead to you?" Breathing that out, Nat grin's waiting to see what kind of reaction comes out today.

"She wasn't even a nurse Nat! She was just an agent Fury put there to babysit me in case something happened." Growling that out, he thumps a hand against the bed again before glancing toward the door.

Tony Stark is all but bouncing in, looking rather pleased with himself. "How much do you love me Cap? C'mon tell me. I'll keep it a secret from the world! No one has to know about our hidden away secret love affairs!" Steve is staring blandly, jaw clenched in annoyance, Nat is doing her best not to laugh at Stark's antics, it only encourages him. "I'm going to take your silence as there's so much love you have no idea what to do with it! Why Cap!"

"Tony, what do you want? Or are you here just rant more useless things at me?" Grousing that out, an annoyed noise escapes his mouth, leaning forward to watch as Tony observes him in thought before snorting.

"You sure know how to take all the fun out of things. They should've named you Captain Killjoy." Tony is grinning, looking like the damn cat that ate the canary and Steve has no idea why. "Yeah, yeah, you don't have to glare. Pretty sure if looks could kill I'd be long dead." Waving a hand he offers the tablet in hand to Natasha who plucks it out of his hands, staring at it for a moment. Her brows pull upward in surprise before offering the device over to Steve who stares, mouth going dry again. On the small digital screen is The Winter Soldier. There's a time stamp on the corner, that was today. Bucky looks whole, but clearly lost. Worse that that, it doesn't look like he's in a good state. Shifting against the bed he's ripping out the IV's before Nat has the chance to stop him.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" Steve doesn't even think about stopping himself from striding to the door. There's work to be done and he was to find Bucky, someone has to. HYDRA is probably looking for their lost asset and come hell or high water would he let such a thing happen. They'd all be torn to shred by his hands and teeth. Those assholes caused more damage across time than any of them could fix. This wouldn't all simply go away with a wave of a hand. None of this shit is ever going to be okay but maybe, just maybe he can get things fixed with his best friend. Either that or put down Winter. After all, Bucky would hate himself for ever being in the state he was in now.

"Because you'd do that?" Tony calls after him. Steve doesn't care. He's running down the hall in that damn hospital gown, Natasha sighing behind him, following 


	3. I loved and I loved, and I lost you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I totally forgot about this story but I talked to SomethingwithSteve about it today and remembered it was here. If any of you want to talk on Tumblr, my name is Starspangledfuckyeah. All errors are my own seeing as no one helps me. *-* Any directions people want to see taken, let me know. The song of the chapter title is "Hurts like hell" by Fleurie

**Brooklyn, New York, 1934.**

"Naw, Buck I don't want tah." A low groan escaped the petite blond, who had a scowl placed in spot. Blond hair was a mess, eyes drawn downward on the picture he'd been attempting to sketch. Sure as hell didn't work so swell with a broken hand, who'da thought such a thing? "You know I can't dance for the life of me." Glancing upward from the smeared charcol on the paper, he took in his best friend's grin, knowing full well there was no way he was going to escape this. When Barnes wanted to do something it was more a matter of how long it took him to talk Steve in such a thing, and god forbid if he pulled out the stops and batted those oceanic eyes of his.

"Stop being such a downer Stevie, you gotta learn or you're never going to get yourself a dame." As if he wanted such a thing, but Barnes wasn't taking no for an answer, especially when he stepped forward, gently grasping the wrist of his uninjured hand. "Plus, this makes up for you trying to get me to draw for you." Breathing that out, brows rose, "Because that was a god awful experience pal, lemme tell you what."

Steve sighed heavily, allowing himself to be dragged out from the wooden chair, rocking on the balls of his feet, the cool looking eyes stared through the other youth for a moment. "You're gonna regret this." Huffing that out, stray golden locks fell in front of his eyes, they were sweeping into movement, Steve's fingers curling tightly into the fabric of the shirt, trying his best not to stomp on his feet. This was a lot harder than most people would've thought. Something so simply and he honestly lacked the coordination for it. Smooth. Way to go Rogers. What was more distracting than barely keeping up was the way Barnes eyes stared down at him as if taking in every single detail of the moment. This was a lot more than he was prepared to handle. Shit. Was his heart racing? This wasn't even fair.

Especially when Barnes pulled him out into a playful twirl before dipping Steve towards the ground, an arm securely around his lower back. Eyes widened as he gripped tighter onto Bucky, struggling to pull himself upward and stationary on the ground once more. "See, told you Stevie. You just need the right partner and even your two left feet can be battled." A shit eating grin lit up the handsome features, humming under his breathe, releasing his hold slowly. Oh he did not! Steve's mouth opened slightly but nothing came out for a moment. How was he supposed to react when his heart was thumping and face flushing. "Looks like I got you winded already. Score 1 for Barnes, and 0 for Rogers." Winking, Bucky moved slowly to glance at the drawing, Steve staring in an exasperated manner over his broad shoulders.

"Are you kidding me?" Squawking that out, arms moving to shift over his chest almost in a protective manner. "I swear that you just like to push me to see how much I'll take." Huffing out a hot rush of air in attempts to get the stray pieces of golden hair out from his eyes, knowing full well that he looked like a laugh. What he didn't like was being worked up into such a state, and having to push his feelings aside because neither of them were like that. Those traitorous feelings could never be spilled out. They might've flirted but it was nothing more than a joke, Barnes would never know how far that damn pining hit. Instead of focusing on that, lanky steps brought Steve to the table looking over the sketch pad.

"Y'know Stevie, even with a broken hand you got some serious skill." A look was tossed over to the golden haired youth who let out a scoffing noise. "No I'm serious you punk, stop making those stupid faces at me, one day you're really gunna get stuck like that."

"Well then at least I'll match how stupid you really are." Steve shot back, baby blues narrowed, snatching the sketch book back from Barnes, holding it close to his chest. "Anyways, why're you over here? Hiding from your Ma again?" Steve snorted out, his scowl fading to a genuine curious look. Not that he didn't appreciate the stop in, it did drag him out from dwelling on all the bad from how sick his mom was getting to the fact he was still messed up after the last fight he threw himself to. If he just jumped right into another one, he was pretty sure that Bucky would refuse to leave. Willing his heart beat to even back out from the traitorous thumping, and the hint of blush that curled around his ears.

"Maybe I just wanted to see what kinda hell my best friend was getting into this time. Imagine my surprise when you're actually at home where you promised to stay Punk." Something that only made Steve roll his eyes skyward.

"Yeah, well its hard to take on fellas twice your size when you're already recovering from the last beating Buck." Grumbling that out he dumped himself back into the wooden chair, eyes swept over the other before flashing his teeth in a grin. "Plus, maybe I wanted to see your confusion when you didn't have to go out running to find me." That happened more often than he cared to admit. Thank god it did, there was numerous times that Buck had managed to pull him out from a bad situation. Be it where he was too sick to even know where home was, or, being cornered in an alley after picking a fight with another bully who thought they could get away with being assholes.

"It was kinda confusing, not gonna lie. Had a moment of wondering where my Stevie went. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to know that you actually can hear what I'm saying, you just choose to be an ass and ignore it anyways. I'll remember that." Barnes huffed out, despite his own annoyance there was warmth lurking in the oceanic eyes, pale pink lips parting slightly, brow furrowing. "Which means that next time you don't listen, I'm gonna tan your hide before any other smchuck can kick your ass." That'd be a promise he knew that one.

Steve just tipped his head back before rolling his eyes. "Whatever, what're you gonna do? Pull me over your knee?" Not that the thought wasn't appealing. "C'mon, you know full well I'm gonna do something reckless." Which was sadly the truth. At the sight of any sort of injustice, there he was, prepared to stop another bully from thinking they could prey on the innocents in the country. Brooklyn was a great place, so they didn't need any dirt bags ruining their home turf. Bucky didn't have to understand, no one did, it just felt right to be the person in someone's corner when they needed the support.

"Yeah you kinda trademarked the word stupid. Look it up in the dictionary and it'll read Steve Grant Rogers, the Bronx kid who doesn't get he's a hundred pounds of nothing and still hurls into danger." Drawling that out, he reached out again. "Now I never said I was done dancing, so get those two left feet back over her Rogers or I'll drag you over here."

___________________________

**Current Year**

Feet pounded over the ground, Bucky was out there somewhere. There was no point in waiting any longer. Who cared if he was injured? It wasn't like he hadn't come back from worse before. Out there was the best friend who suffered horrible misdeeds from the treatment of HYDRA, the man who looked him in the face and asked who the hell Bucky was. All these little pieces would haunt memories, but they were nothing compared to the good memories they shared. Steve didn't give a damn who'd think it was wrong he cared so much. Even so, bolting out of a hospital in nothing but a gown was probably not the best decision he'd made in a long while, especially when he all but sprinted past agents who'd been placed at his doors to make sure Barnes didn't finish off the job.

How was anyone supposed to understand that his world had been nothing but gray thinking that Bucky had died all those years ago on the train? He'd been unable to reach out in time, to catch the man he loved from death. So many feelings screeched through him, but at the forefront of all that frightening conflict was his own hurt and anguish. He'd make things right now matter how much he had to suffer, no matter how much blood would be shed. Was it wrong to feel so guilty? Every step he took reminded him that this was the modern age and the man he was desperately loved in the past was probably gone. All that remained was nothing more than cruel coding that controlled his mind.

So, maybe he hadn't been expecting when an arm curled around his torso from behind, stilling his running effectively, eyes forward, breath hitching, eyes flickered downward slowly. That metal arm could only belong to one person. Shifting against the hold, Steve braced his feet against the harsh pavement, oh hell he wasn't going to be the one going down again. "Buck!" The arm pressed tighter against his rib cage where he'd previously been shot. Fuck. "Son of a bitc-" The word faded in a whisper as he was once more struggling to stay awake again the darkness rearing up to drag him down. Struggling, a pained noise escaped his lips. All of his plans on fixing things were never going to reach any real ground if he wound up dead. There wasn't anything he could do as he finally went limp in Barnes arms.

Where was he? That was the first thing that nagged in the back of Steve's mind while forcing his eyes open slowly. It wasn't the hospital. That was for damn certain, and that wasn't a nurse who was sitting well in his personal space, oceanic eyes locked on his face. Steve's eyes opened fully, staring back into the face of the man he'd been hunting all this time. What he hadn't expected was metal to bite against his wrist when jerking upward to sit up properly. Eyes shifted over to where cuffs glimmered, holding him securely. There weren't normal grade, those would've been snapped easily. Barnes was smarter than that, after all the asset had been hunting and killing for years.

"You sustained heavy injuries, leaving the premises of the hospital was not a suitable call. Until you are recovered I will be making the decisions." Bucky spoke, his voice holding no emotional inflection to it at all. It was like listening to a machine repeat something heard before. What bothered Steve more than that was how close their faces were to one another, Bucky all but leaning over him.

"I'm fine." Steve protested, a scowl setting into place. It didn't seem to matter what state of mind his best friend was in, he still managed to fret too much about things. Even so, the asset moved a hand outward, placing it down against the sternum, placing a bit of pressure, all the while keeping eye contact. Pain radiated, lungs wheezing for air sharply, alright so maybe he wasn't at the top of his game, but he didn't appreciate being cuffed in some strange place where he had no idea of the threat level, and Barnes was uncomfortably close, expression unreadable. "Fuck! I get it, stop it!" Rogers snapped out, wriggling, glaring upward at the oceanic eyes, holding half a mind just to head butt the asshole right then and there. It'd still leave the issue of trying to get out from the cuffs.

Slowly the asset removed his hand, drawing back slightly, a frown finally settling into place. There was no trace of Barnes in those eyes, they harsh reflecting nothing but a coldness to them, like a feral animal prepared to strike down it's prey. Head tipping ever so slightly to the side, he seemed intent on watching Steve while the soldier turned his gaze away to stare about the room, taking in all the details. It looked like a secured base somewhere, but the dust suggested it'd long been abandoned. How many hours had he been out that Bucky had been able to drag him to some long forgotten thing? "My mission objective..." The voice murmured, "Is about you." Yet there is still no emotion and Steve forces himself to look back at the man who is nothing more than a shadow of the best friend who'd stood shoulder to shoulder with him through hell. "I..."

It looked like the asset was struggling to say something, a faint flicker of a frown scrawling over his features, stepping backward harshly, metal hand smashing into a wall hard. "I NEED MORE INFORMATION!" The snarl escaped parted lips, breathing becoming rapid as his head dropped between his hands, clutching at the hair fiercely. All Steve could do was watch from where he was trapped, helpless. The snarl had died to muttering, and even with super soldier hearing, Steve could barely make out snatches of words that escaped from the assassins mouth. Prattling of what was going on.

"Buck?" Cautiously speaking, Steve did his best to go into a sitting position despite the pain lacing in against his wrists from the cuffs. There was no way he could just sit here while his best friend was going through a break down.

Head snapping up, dirty brown hair swayed while cold eyes stared at him. "I'm the asset." It was hissed out before the lanky figure of the assassin stormed from the cell, door slamming shut behind him. What the hell was he caught in now? From where he was sitting listening, he could hear snarling about needing a reset, and that he needed to know who the blond was so important. Sitting in silence, heart pounding harshly, Steve felt tears at the back of his eyes. This was what became of the man he loved, someone who was so torn apart they could barely function, and even so, still broke down into a fit. Sometimes life was a bitch, and it continued to prove to him such a thing.

Head hanging, Steve felt the first hot tear fall, scorching a patch along his cheek. "Your objective was to kill me." Murmuring that out, he knew full well the other couldn't hear it. How long would it take before Barnes realized what the programming wanted from him? If he ever did. Most of HYDRA was dead which meant that this man with his broken mind was on his own without a reprieve and Steve didn't know if he could offer any form of solace from such a thing. How could you take something so precious from someone and destroy everything they knew? The tears continued to fall, for once he was free to have his emotions o himself. No one would know how something like this could even wear down on Captain America.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee. <3 I'm slow the updates. This chapter is in Bucky's point of view. Thanks to anyone still reading along! Much love to you all. We'll be getting to the good stuff the next couple chapters! :D Any mistakes are my own. Don't be afraid to leave comments of what you'd like to see play out!

**Brooklyn, New York - Past.**

Each year could keep passing by without a care, and hell it did. The world seemed to be changing constantly but the one thing that remained the same to James Buchanan Barnes was Steve Rogers. No matter how rough things got, they had each other. So maybe that was why he was fretting when the other youth was late to meeting him. Which soon dissipated upon seeing Steve trudging with a bloody mouth, hands shoved into the depths of his worn brown coat, hair a mess. A sigh crawled out from Bucky's mouth, "What did you in this time Steve? You really gotta lay off this heroism sometimes pal, or one of these days..." Trailing off, he reached out, cupping the other's cheek to assess the damage. Well, at least time it was nothing more than surface marks that'd heal. Thank god, dealing with the broken bones were the worst, especially when half the time he was certain that his body would just give up. Nah, that wasn't going to happen one way or another, Steve was too stubborn to ever roll over and let the world win. So long as bullies existed there'd be Steve.

"I don't wanna talk about it Buck. C'mon you still owe me a drink and maybe if we're lucky there'll be some pretty girls there." Those words had James pausing, sure, right. Pretty girls. As if he gave half a damn about them. The corner of his mouth lifted upward in a half hearted grin, releasing his hold on Steve's face, draping an arm over the other's shoulder tugging him close. Oh Steve wasn't going to get out of telling him what happened one way or another but he'd play the game, one way or another James was used to getting what he wanted. The only thing that he'd ever be denied was the love of the person who mattered most to him but like hell was he going to make that anyone's business. If anything Stevie could easily woo himself a pretty girl and have himself a family.

"Yeah yeah sure, try and rush me on to getting you all boozed up. Maybe I want some Stevie time of my own you punk." Laughing warmly, he fell into an easy, languid step. It didn't go over his head how Steve leaned slightly into him, clutching to his coat, but there wasn't anything he'd say about it and ruin a good moment, even if concern nipped at his heels. Sheesh, he'd find the asshole who did that and show them a thing or two about being a piece of crud.

"Yeah sure, about as much as any smuck wants the whooping cough." Came the soft retort finally before the moment was over just like that, Steve pulled away to lead the way to the bar while James stared at the other from behind with an exasperated look.

"Sure, sign me right up. It was super attractive when you broke your ribs too." Chiming that warmly, he watched the blond shoot an irritated look over his shoulder at him. In return he lifted his hand giving an innocent smile, waving. Oh hell they both gave each other shit all the time but it was in good jest if nothing else. Glancing along the dirty streets after Steve looked away, he wondered how he was going to break it to Steve that he'd gotten his notice of being enlisted. Sometimes there was things in life they couldn't avoid and he didn't want to tell his best friend that, or how scared he was. Dying for his country was honorable sure, but was it what he wanted to do with his life? Was that all he'd amount to?

"So are yo- ... Bucky, earth to Bucky, learn to pay attention when someone is talking to you, jerk." Oh huh. Snapping back to reality the cool blue eyes met the baby blues nodding slightly for Steve to continue. "I was saying, are you gonna go to that school your ma wants you to go to?"

"Oh I don't know." Lie, it was a lie and he felt like crap even saying one to Steve. "Lets just get to the pub yeah?" Which they were almost at, the lights from it warming up the street in a warm golden glow. Tonight was just going to be letting go of fears and having a good time. For once he was just going to ignore everything else and see what came out of it.

Once they got into the warmth of the pub, James seemed to relax, moving to the wooden bar counter, Steve in tow. Once each of them had a glass in hand he glanced over the pub. There were plenty of pretty dames about sure, but none of them stood in comparison to his Stevie. "What about that brunette over there Buck? She's sure making some eyes at you." Steve nudged him gently, grinning up to him. Giving a glance to the lady in question, he had to admit she was sure pretty. Too bad she wasn't his type.

"Nah, I think she's more your type than mine." Teasing that out, he tipped the glass to his mouth taking another drink from it. Before he knew it a couple drinks had joined on the counter, and both him and Steve were considerably drunk. Laughter was to be had as they sat beside one another cracking jokes at the bar counter. it was times like this that he realized how totally and utterly screwed he was. He was in love with Steve Rogers and he refused to admit that truth. After all there was too many stories of what happened to the queer community. Enough that it put a damper on him ever thinking about telling Steve anything.

"Aw man it's getting late. We should get out of here Buck." Steve glanced from the clock back toward him, and all Bucky could do was blink before nodding slightly. "But you're staying at my place. Pretty sure your ma would murder you if you came home drunk like a skunk." His heart was a traitor doing somersaults, stomach fluttering. Great. He was no better than Becca when she gushed about liking some guy.

"Yeah, you're right. She'd skin my hide. Let's get outta here." Tugging on his coat, he waited patiently for Steve before they left the establishment. It was cold outside, the air nipping their cheeks, enough so that it had a slight sobering effect on him. It didn't stop him from lightly humming while they walked, Steve humming along with him. It was times like this that fed his stupid feelings. None of it mattered though, soon he'd be gone to war and Steve would be safe here, hopefully settling down with someone nice. Even the thought of that hurt worse than he ever thought it would.

Reaching the worn down apartment complex, laughter escaped James as Steve stumbled on the stairs. "Shut up you jerk."

"Oh sorry, let me help you." Moving with ease he looped his arms under the thin legs, and lower back pulling the golden haired youth into a bridal hold while easily moving up the stairs. "After all I always help a damsel in distress." Flashing his teeth in a grin, he must've been seeing things when he spotted the red of blush in the dark of the stairs. Damn, must've drank more than he remembered. It happened when having a good time. So he opened the door to the apartment before placing Steve down, finding himself being dragged in by the front of his shirt.

"Its cold out there, hurry up." Steve released his hold and James was blinking, closing the door gently, locking it back up once they were inside. A loud yawn escaped the lanky youth who was rubbing at his eyes, taking off the button up shirt, "You better be joining me in bed tonight, its cold in here."

"Sure thing you punk." James snorted out, ushering the other to the small bedroom, both of them getting down to their boxers, crawling under the plain white sheets curling up against one another. Staring up at the ceiling he listened to the breathing even out before glancing over at his best friend, the one person he loved more than anything in the world. Leaning in closer he tugged Steve against his chest, pressing a warm kiss to the other's forehead saying the words he never dared to say when the other was awake. "I love you."

\-------

**Current days, Hidden base -**

 

Nothing made sense.

>> _Asset reset? Yes/No_

**_Yes._ **

>> _Reset Failed. Proper protocols not met._

Why even ask. He needed someone who knew the protocols then but where would he find them?

Better yet, how? He needed help to do the resets. How many resets had happened over the years? The only thing he could remember in vivid detail was Alexander Pierce, but he was dead. That much had come out while inspecting what had happened, apparently Rumlow was still out there somewhere. Maybe he'd know how to reset it or the scientist behind the project. Yet his mind kept running in loops there was still missions that needed to be done. What needed to be done? Why the hell was this so complicated? The software had been flawless all these years. There'd never been a real issue until that helicarrier. Things went into a spiral after that, he could still remember watching as the target fell through the glass and metal, through the sky and briefly a moment of panic had hit him. Why?

Why did he feel something whenever the blond man spoke? It felt like a part of him was slowly coming undone, but emotions where not allowed. Any attachment to any sort of mission would mean punishment. It would be another erase of the horrible pain and static that always filled his head after. Staring down at his own hands the asset didn't know what to do. At least he had the target safe. That was all that mattered. Anyone who tried to come between him and his objective would perish. One well aimed shot and they'd fall. After all if nothing else, he was a weapon that destroyed and wiped out countless people. There was so many faces he didn't remember, just names if nothing else and those names were just threads at the back of his mind and he didn't know if he was willing to pull any of them.

Inspection of his hands done, he moved in calculated silence to the main part of the bunker, grabbing a bottle of sealed water and a protein bar. Food meant little to him, there was no enjoyment, he had no clue how to survive or enjoy anything really, so when it came to surviving he ate the things that held the most potential. Finally calmed down from the out burst he approached the room once more and opened the door, staring over Steve Rogers from where he remained on the floor. The only thing different seemed to be the tear tracks on the other's cheeks, head cocking slightly to the side the pale blue eyes shifted before tossing the bottle over along side the bar. "Eat." The ruskie accent laced in that one word.

"Bucky, what're you doing?" Steve had caught the bottle and the bar with mere ease, "This is stupid. There's people who'll come after me. What're you going to do then? You can't beat everyone. I can help you."

The asset stared in silence, not showing a hint of emotion toward anything before a shoulder rose in a hint of a shrug. "They won't find you, and if they try, I will kill them." Wasn't that simple enough to understand? There might've been a lot of pain over the years because of him, but he wasn't beyond making things so much worse. Steve seemed to recoil at such a thing though. Had it been wrong to be honest about what would happen? It wasn't in his coding to tell a lie, even though sometimes he found there was situations that he was allowed to.

"That won't solve anything. Buck please, let me help you."

"That's not my name." Retorting that flatly, he once more stepped out of the room, firmly closing the door behind him with a harsh jerk before Rogers could see the pained expression that flickered across his face. However brief it had been there was emotion there. Instead of allowing himself time to dwell on such things, the asset stared down the hallway in thought before approaching the main entrance. He'd have to see if things were secured before throwing himself into protecting someone who stupidly ran off when he was still injured. Why anyone would do that was beyond him. Eyes flickered over toward the door one last time, hearing Rogers still pleading to him. Giving his head the slightest of shakes he moved down the hallway.

There was no way he could continue to subject himself to that when his emotions were busy caught in their own landslide that seemed to be going downward.

So for the next couple hours he spent doing rounds making sure nothing was out of place. Eventually he knew he'd need to settle for sleep, but he hated that. Every time he slept the faces of the people he killed always haunted him like a bad memory. There was just too much going on in his head that it was a stressful ordeal. It didn't stop him from finding himself standing across from the cell door once more, wanting to say something. Maybe this man knew about the mission and what his objective had been. Lightly knocking this time to alert the other of his presence he pushed open the door and then gazed openly at Steve who looked tired. Eyes flickered over to the wrapper of the protein bar and the empty water bottle. Good. At least this man had the will to survive if nothing else.

"What do you want Buck? This game of you snapping at me and stomping off is getting tiresome." Steve sighed out, slowly standing up, the asset remained standing in one spot, watching before Steve seemed to catch the fact he used the name. "What do I call you?" Such a simple question but he was never offered a choice before, Blinking in surprise, the asset floundered. What was it that his file had said his name was? James, wasn't it?

"James."

A mirthless laugh escaped Steve. "Okay James it is."

Nodding slightly he relaxed before looking over the other. "Why do you always stupidly rush into things?" It was a soft question, posed more like an exasperated statement.

"Because of some jerk who thought he could leave me."


End file.
